


Same Difference

by cndrow



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post Pacifist Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5298557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cndrow/pseuds/cndrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The monsters have all settled into their lives on the surface, adapting and changing to their freedom. </p><p>Sans, however, feels painfully outside of the entire experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Difference

The first year of freedom had been especially chaotic; far too energetic for Sans' tastes, though he couldn't have been happier to see his friends and acquaintances settling in to new homes and new jobs. His own new family had been busy, busy, busy with founding the first monster school on the surface in centuries. Even Papyrus had what felt like a hundred reasons to be gone from home, and even if he returned nightly with epic tales of his exploits, Sans found himself to be a bit lonely.  _Bonely_ , he had joked to Toriel as he helped her wash up dishes one night,  _but tibia honest the quiet is ice this time of year_. Toriel had giggled and nuzzled his cheek and if she held him more tightly that night, he didn't think much of it.  
  
Their second winter on the surface was much nicer by Sans' standards. Monsters were eager to adopt human holidays and combine the (admittedly frequent) overlaps, so his family was more often at home baking, entertaining, or simply resting between activities. He hadn't realised how much he missed being cuddled awake by Frisk curling into his lap to watch TV, or Papyrus' booming voice searing through his rest. Toriel's kisses were his favourite reason to drag himself back to reality, he secretly admitted to himself, making yet another mental note to tell her that someday. That list had grown exponentially in the past year, but every time he tried to speak up, serious and determined, he somehow forgot how to form words and stuttered until she took mercy on him and said, "I know, dear."  
  
But  _did_ she know? How could she, if Sans couldn't even mimic Frisk's carefree  _"I love you!"_  without burying it so far beneath layers of puns it never came out properly?   
  
What he failed in words, he began trying to make up for in action- no easy feat for him but he tried, oh god he tried. It was nearly impossible to get up to a six o'clock alarm just so he could make her tea before she left to teach. Flowers were difficult to find in the colder months, but she seemed to enjoy his arrangements of fresh spruce cuttings arranged around magically frozen icicles (at least they smelled nice). Shopping had never interested him- why stock up groceries when any moment they could all be gone?- but he strove to overcome his ingrained pessimism and found he really did like picking out groceries with her, especially once they figured out he easily fit in the shopping cart. _Zoom zoom_.  
  
Everything had a permanence, every action remained firmly in the past where it should be, and the idea that this would actually, truly last forever was both wonderful and terrifying. Relying on the fact that he would, indeed, wake up next to Toriel and have a sleepy breakfast with Frisk every morning filled him with a deep-seated security he'd never known. But now that he had forever stretching before him, filled with unknowns and no chances to redo his mistakes? Utterly horrifying. He'd never known such paralyzing fear.  
  
The slower he went, the faster the years seem to fly past. Frisk grew tall enough to look Papyrus in the eye and started going on proper dates. Mettaton actually begged his brother to be their production manager, which kept Papyrus away from home most of the time. Grillby moved away to run a more secluded bar on the outskirts of the city. Alphys and Undyne became completely wrapped up in their own jobs and each other. Even Asgore was gone travelling half the year as he gained prestige in his governmental office. Changes came and went, piling on each other into a marched progression, and yet Sans felt like he had never stood so still and quiet. Everyone was moving and laughing and growing.   
  
Everyone except him.  
  
The pressure built gradually, taking a full decade to reach the breaking point. Unfortunately, Toriel was directly involved in the explosion.  
  
It had started innocently enough; another evening of him, Toriel and Frisk sipping tea and eating donuts, TV murmuring on low in the background as they chatting and he pretended to nap. It was the same evening that played out every Friday night, feeling safe and mundane and yet a unique experience every time; undeniable proof that this was a new night. Frisk stumbled off to bed shortly after one a.m., leaving Toriel to press one of those coveted kisses against Sans' skull to stir him awake. Oddly enough, it was the familiar gentleness that broke the dam that had been tested so violently in his soul.  
  
"Why do you keep doing that?" he nearly shrieked, shoving her as far away as his short arms would allow.   
  
Toriel's shock was plainly written on her face, mouth ajar just enough to give a hint of that rough pink tongue, the large glossy eyes that held all the stars spread so wide he could see the universe, and yet all the words he hadn't found were suddenly, painfully real and pouring from him.  
  
"It's all the same routine but it's all completely different," he yelled, waving his arms frantically. "We go to work and come home and I never know what's going to happen but after years of the same I  _do_ know, so it's like I  _never_ know what to expect. I see you every morning, every single fucking morning, and it's so- so- I love it so much but- You let me stay here and keep feeding me and holding me and say you love me and smile that same pretty smile over and over until I want to scream-!"  
  
White suddenly blocked his vision as Toriel surged forward, sweeping him into her arms and holding his face to her shoulder. He was shaking, small bony hands tangling in soft fur as the first sob escaped.  
  
"I know," she whispered, tilting to rest her cheek against the top of his skull. "I still don't completely understand the science behind what you told me, but I know it's hard for you, Sans. It's alright."  
  
"No it's not," he muttered, words nearly lost in the thick coat pressed against his mouth. "Everyone is different and I don't- I'm not any different. I'm stuck, Tori, you're all going too fast and I can't keep up, I'm just sitting here watching and it  _hurts_."  
  
"And I hurt for you," Toriel replied quietly. "Trust me, Sans, I know this is hard for you, I can see it every day. But you aren't just sitting still, my dear. You  _have_ changed, you just don't see yourself like I do."  
  
"...What?"  _Impossible_. Toriel and all the others were so vibrant, full of life and laughter, and he just... wasn't.  
  
Toriel gave a short laugh, pulling back just far enough to smile brightly down at him. "Oh Sans, my dear, you will never be loud like your brother, or bright and aggressive like Mettaton, or grab attention everywhere you go like our sweet Frisk. But who you are, and who you are to me, is absolutely perfect."  
  
Sans blinked stupidly. "I'm not-,"  
  
"You do a hundred tiny things a day to show your family how much you adore them," she continued, pressing her nose to his until it wrinkled, "but you're so sneaky and you think we don't notice! And maybe sometimes we don't, but we always know, my dear. We always see what you've done and love you even more for it. We couldn't ask for more."  
  
"Y- You could," he stuttered, teeth clattering. "You could have everything-,"  
  
"I already do, my dear."  
  
Sans fell silent, stunned and uncomfortable at the declaration. It was one of those times he was painfully aware that the person holding him was their Queen, perhaps no longer in name, but there was no mistaking her for royalty. An authority figure everyone loved to love. Far above his paygrade. And she kept choosing repeatedly, every day, to wake up to  _his_ dumb face.  
  
"You were so cold when we first met through the Ruins door." Toriel sighed, twining one of his small hands in a large paw. "You were funny and I was so glad you kept coming back, but your humour was sharp. You were bitter. You weren't as... compassionate as you are now. You were always generous with your brother, but now you are with everyone." Toriel shifted, expression pinching into worry. "Are- Are you happy with me?"  
  
_Panic_. Oh god he'd really gone and fucked this up, if Toriel was questioning his unconditional devotion to her. Fortunately these long-lost words still seemed to be forthcoming, even if he was beginning to stumble over them. He reached up, wrapping his arms around her neck to tug her down. "You're everything I th- thought I could n- never have," he whispered. "Tori, I- When we left the Underground, the l- last thing I whispered to an echo flower was that y- you were my only wish I'd allow myself to have, just for me."  
  
Toriel gasped, moving to speak, but Sans hushed her with a hand.  
  
"I wanted you and I wanted this family so damn much and at first it was just amazing, knowing I could actually have this, but then as time passed I..." He shuddered again. "I'm so scared, Tori, I've never wanted anything this much in my life. I'm not like all the other monsters and certainly not like any of the humans and one day you're going to realise it's just me, day in and day out, over and over saying the same stupid jokes and not telling you I love you." He blinked, feeling a warm flush spread across his cheeks. "Well, uh, not 'til now, I guess."  
  
Toriel laughed, her eyes suspiciously wet as she rubbed their noses again. "You don't ever have to say it, Sans, I have known since you held my hand that first day on the Surface. But, ah,  _hee hee_ , I admit it's quite lovely to hear."  
  
Sans gripped at her apron, frowning as he stared up at her. "I should've said it before now. I should've told you, and Frisk and Pap, I don't want to live without you anymore."  
  
"We don't either," a voice off to his left piped up, and Sans had just enough time to scoot back for Frisk to dive between them, long skinny limbs scrunching up to wedge in the space in their circled arms. Some of that blind panic began to ebb as Frisk turned with a cheerful smile, their short bangs mussed from bed. "Doesn't matter how long it takes for you to get there, dad, just as long as you get there. Isn't that what you've taught me?"  
  
Sans didn't trust himself to speak- more of those uncharacteristic sobs were lurking just below the surface- so he squeezed Frisk and as much of Toriel as he could reach to himself.  
  
"My silly monsters," Toriel playfully chided, and Sans couldn't help a short laugh. "Alright, so there's been a breakdown of communication in some areas, but we're all here together now, and that's what matters."  
  
It was quiet for a moment while that sunk in, their breathing syncing as Frisk's eyes started to droop. The words were retreating, that crippling shyness creeping up Sans' spine, but before it could engulf him again he blurted, "And I can- we can have this? Forever? What if I-,"  
  
"What if's suck," Frisk replied bluntly, smiling when their parents chuckled. "Really though. If I'd gotten hung up on 'what ifs' I'd still be stuck in the Ruins with mom. No offense."  
  
"No, you're quite right, my dear," Toriel murmured, dropping a kiss on each of their heads.   
  
It was difficult, accepting that this routine would be permanent. Sans could feel his soul shudder, threatening to break under the pressure again- but this time he had the determination to bite it back. If the people he loved most in the world could do this, couldn't he? Perhaps, in just this small way, he could shine as brilliant as them and grow into this change, too.   
  
Day after day after day. Forever.


End file.
